


Lead Back Home

by Ori_Cat



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, Reposted following reviewal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-31 01:12:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13964139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ori_Cat/pseuds/Ori_Cat
Summary: The last time Death sees Mort and Ysabell.





	Lead Back Home

There was fire at the bottom of the valley. It fed on the spilled oil, broken wood, tufts of grass that grew in the dried-out, salty soil. 

There was also a man. If you didn’t expect people there, you wouldn’t have noticed him at all. It didn’t help that his clothes were the same colour as the night around, and his hair was the same colour as the fire. He turned around slowly, taking in the flames and twisted beams and scar of dirt trailing up the side until it couldn’t be seen anymore. Then he bent down and helped up a woman. Though she also wore black, her hair looked like curled moonlight. White, red, and black. And the strangest thing about them was that they stood perfectly calmly, as though waiting for something, in the centre of the fire, and yet were not burnt. 

DUKE AND DUCHESS STO HELIT? 

The man didn’t turn around. “Oh, please. I don’t think I ever really felt like a duke.” 

Death paused. Then: 

MORT. YSABELL. 

“Father.” The woman turned and ran to hug Death. He placed the hand without the scythe in it around her other shoulder. “I missed you.” 

AND I YOU, YSABELL. 

Death’s gaze met the man’s above his daughter’s head. 

“Master.” The man nodded respectfully. “I’d almost forgotten. It’s been seventeen years, hasn’t it?” 

WAS IT SUFFICIENT? 

“Never.” But he smiled to say it. Better to have too little time than to have all the time possible, and nothing to fill it. All told, they’d been lucky. 

The woman stepped away from Death and took her husband’s hand. “We were busy enough, father. What with-“ Her face suddenly fell. “Susan! Susan - we - she’s alone - how-“ 

Her husband pulled her close, and she clung to him and buried her face in his shoulder. “Oh, Ysabell,” he whispered into her hair. She sobbed. “Oh, Ysabell.” 

Death watched them silently. He had infinite time, now. So did they. Around the three of them the world quietly shifted. The flame and wreck faded until they stood on not dry dust but sand, and the sky was no longer cloudy but spotted with stars. 

I SHALL LOOK AFTER SUSAN, IF IT HELPS. 

“Really?” 

REALLY. 

“Thank you, father.” It was so quiet she could hardly be heard. 

The man looked around at the desert. The twinkling of the stars was mirrored in the glitter of the black sand. “What now?” he asked. 

WHAT DO YOU THINK? 

“I think,” the man said, slowly, “I know we have to go. To stay is to disappear. I think we’ll be able to find somewhere to wait for Susan. And I hope that time passes so much more slowly for her than for us.” 

NOT A BAD PLAN. IN THAT CASE… 

“Au revoir.” Death had long ago told him that was the preferred send-off with him. 

But his wife corrected him. “No, Mort. Not au revoir this time.” She curtseyed deeply, formally, to Death; then they hugged again. “Goodbye, father. I love you.” Death didn’t reply. There was nothing he could say. 

After what seemed much too short a time, the woman stepped back. She was already looking less substantial, the light of the stars showing through her dress. They were already prepared to move on. 

Death held out a hand, and the man took it and they shook. “Goodbye.” He forced a smile. “Thank you, for everything. I’m lucky to have been chosen.” 

YOU PROVED BETTER THAN I EXPECTED. FAREWELL, said Death, …BOY. 

The man’s laugh lingered after everything else had gone.


End file.
